This past Sunday, I ran into a friend and fellow Baby Buncher (also with 3 under the age of 5) at church and she commented to me that while they'd had a lovely Christmas, she was "glad to see her last Baby's First Christmas behind her." Until she articulated it, I didn't realize that I also had been feeling that way.
Somehow, adding a baby to the Christmas mix adds a whole other dimension to the holiday. I slogged through the season with a baby permanently glued to my hip, trying to simplify things as best I could. Sadly enough, I ended up cutting out two of the activities that I actually enjoy the most - baking and wrapping (because I ordered most of my gifts online and had them shipped directly to recipients to spare myself the agony of standing in line at the post office with my Bunch in tow). We decided to forgo holiday traveling with a baby and instead everyone came to us, which made things easier in that we didn't have to pack up and go, but harder in that we had to host those who came to us. All in all, it was just kind of a weird, non-festive year. Which sucked because it was also Baby #3's first Christmas.
I don't have a good history with Baby's First Christmases. At my oldest's first Christmas, I was newly pregnant with #2 and sick as a dog. I was in a fog that year, but somehow I managed to shove him into precious overalls with Santa hand-knitted into the front and get all the obligatory photos taken (for the Christmas card, at the photo studio, on Santa's lap, family picture in front of the tree, etc.). I had to be sure to capture all those happy "Baby's First Christmas" memories, but in a twist of irony all I want to do is puke every time I look at the family photo because I remember how morningsick I was.
For my second baby's first Christmas, HE was sick as a dog with an ear infection. He literally did not sleep for a week unless he was held because at first we thought he was teething, and by the time we realized he was really sick, it was Christmas Eve and the doctor's office was closed for two days. Thankfully, my family was visiting, otherwise I literally don't know how we would've made it through Christmas. Five adults took shifts holding him around the clock while the rest of us tried to keep up with his energetic not-quite-two-year-old brother. NOT a good year. Nevertheless, I shoved both boys into matching hand-smocked outfits during the day and precious gingerbread jammies at night to capture manufactured happy memories so that someday I can show him what a wonderful first Christmas he had.
Baby #3's first Christmas--this year--was bittersweet for me. A dear friend of mine lost her infant son a few months before mine was born, and I was conflicted this holiday season between savoring my miracle while mourning her loss. On top of that, Baby was a teething, fussing nightmare and he managed to wear out his parents, both sets of grandparents, and all his aunts. Being #3, he naturally has quite a few less "happy Christmas" photos to begin with, but we have a few (in matching outfits for all boys, of course) and I found myself letting go of my photo obsession just a little. It was just too hard to capture every memory with everything that was going on. We seemed to race through the holidays at breakneck speed and then collapse from exhaustion when it was all over.
But the New Year holiday is already off to a better start. Extended family vacated the premises yesterday and just having less people in the house already makes things feel more calm. We had our babysitter come this morning and hubby slept off a migraine until 1 pm while I spent two delicious hours running errands by myself and sipping Starbucks. We are blessedly NOT hosting the annual New Year's Eve party tonight, so we'll head over to our friends' house for an early dinner and (provided baby cooperates) be sound asleep to ring in the New Year.
I am cherishing every moment of our third baby because I know he is our last, but I must say that I am happy to see my final Baby's First Christmas in my rear- view mirror. Happy New Year, everyone!
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